


Eating Peaches

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Aged up!Five, Crying, Dirty Talk, F/M, Hate Sex, Masturbation, PWP, blowjob, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-24 06:42:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18162584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: The Handler and Five take an intermission.





	Eating Peaches

**Author's Note:**

> this is purely self indulgent and dirty, filthy, goodness. don't @ me abt Five's age. I picture him as being sixteen here (bc i said so, pretend canon is different) (and it's really not specified so picture whatever you like) but regardless, he's mentally much older 
> 
> big thanks to hannah for beta'ing!!
> 
> enjoy!

“I don’t even know your name,” Five manages to gasp out.

The Handler rolls her eyes. “I don’t know yours,” she says.

“Five _is_ my name,” he snaps. Then he shudders, moans softly. Above him, he knows she’s smirking at him. She’s looming over him, got him pressed into the chair, her hands on his thighs like promises. His dick is straining against the front of his shorts. She’s barely touched him but it hardly takes anything, in the throes of a second puberty like he is.

The Handler hums. “Sure,” she says, in a tone that would otherwise incense Five. As it is, he’s not sure he could stand, and watching the Handler sink to her knees is enough to knock the wind out of him. She finally takes one hand off his thigh and nimbly undoes his little schoolboy shorts, the damned absurd things. Her hand is quicker than his thoughts and by the time his brain has caught up with everything, the Handler has Five’s cock out and poised on her bottom lip.

“Jesus,” he breathes shakily. His fingers are cramping where they’re clinging to the arms of the chair.

The Handler winks at him. “You can call me whatever you like,” she teases before wrapping her cherry-red lips around the tip of his dick. Despite the pristine matte color on her lips, it comes off easily along Five’s length, smearing red along the stiff skin. The Handler stares up at him as she sinks down until her nose is buried against the nest of pubes at the base of his dick. He can tell she’s smiling, and he wants to be annoyed—no, he _is_ annoyed, he just can’t do anything about it because he’s not sure he’ll ever move again.

She moans around his length as she draws back up, a string of spit connecting her lips to the tip. “Not bad,” she says, stroking her hand along his cock. Despite the red staining his skin, her lipstick still looks immaculate. It doesn’t make sense but it’s _hot_ , burning him up from the inside out. “I bed you come like a fire hydrant, huh?” She says. Her hand doesn’t relent in its pace, and she twists her grip just right under the head and Five gasps, bucks his hips up.

“Fuck!” He moans. “You…”

“Hm?” The Handler asks. She pulls her hand away and peppers kisses down the length. “What was that?” She asks. Five doesn’t even bothering answering other than to pant desperately. She smirks at him again and wraps her lips around him once more before starting to bob. She does it gracefully, her hair not moving an inch. An urge to take a handful of her hair and yank her down to meet him is _strong_ , but his fingers feel glued to the chair.

Despite all her grace, she’s slurping noisily, sloppily, and Five is careening towards orgasm faster than he’d like. The Handler presses her tongue against his leaking slit before sinking back down to the hilt and letting the tip hit the back of her throat. She swallows and the convulsing muscles almost tip him over the edge, but not quite.

The Handler pulls off again and daintily wipes a glob of spit from the corner of her mouth. “Better stamina than I anticipated,” she says like he’s a fucking experiment and she’s taking notes. “Has anyone else ever done this for you, Number Five?”

He grits his teeth. “No.”

She lays her cheek against his thigh, licks her lips. “How’s it feel, Five?” Her perfectly manicured nails drum gently against his oversensitive dick; it’s a strange sensation, but it’s enough to have him shaking. “Good?” She inches closer to his cock once more and barely lets her lips brush over his skin. “Bad?”

“You know it’s good, you fucking bitch.”

The Handler smiles. “Why, thanks.”

She teases him this time. She blows against the tip of his dick and sticks out her tongue, giving it tiny, torturous licks. She grins up at him with her tongue between her teeth, and Five’s mesmerized by the drop of precome beading on the Handler’s tongue. Achingly slow, the Handler takes him into her mouth again. She drops down two inches, and pulls back one—then down another two inches, and back up one.

“You’re a menace,” Five grits out.

Her throaty laugh vibrates all along his cock and he has to grab at the arms of the chair again. In his polished shoes, his toes are curling. He’s overheating in his stupid, stuffy uniform, but he’d rather die than be naked in front of the Handler. The embarrassment of being so affected by nothing but her mouth is enough to last him a lifetime, and not in a good way.

The Handler doesn’t seem inclined to pull off and sass him this time at least. She gradually increases her pace and deepthroats him each time, moaning around him and shoving him closer to the precipice of his release. He wants to fuck her mouth but when his hand finally unsticks from the arm of the chair, the Handler reaches up and grabs his wrist in a bruising grip.

She winks at him again and pushes his hand back to the chair. Frustration mounts inside him alongside the arousal, but the latter wins out as he watches the Handler drop a hand down to her lap. He can’t quite see what’s happening, but there’s a tell-tale rustling over the blood rushing in his ears, and the Handler lets out a deeper moan than before.

Five manages to speak. “Sucking me off turns you on, huh?”

The Handler’s eyes snap open in a narrow glare, but she doesn’t stop bobbing her head.

“Are you wet?” Five asks in a rasping tone. “For me?”

Her eyes flutter and a surge of success fills Five. He doesn’t try to reach for her hair again, although he wants to. He bucks his hips slightly and relishes the way she gags around him despite all her grace and skill. Her shoulder works in tight circles as she fucks herself, or maybe she’s rubbing at her clit, Five isn’t sure, doesn’t really care. It makes her sloppier on his cock and he can’t shut his mouth, now that he’s started.

“You’re a slut, aren’t you? You’ve just been dying to get on your knees for me, haven’t you?” Five thrusts up again and the Handler chokes; a single tear runs down her cheek. Her makeup stays perfect all the while. “You’re going to swallow, aren’t you?”

She moans but he gags it with a pointed, deliberate thrust upward, shoving his cock deeper into her throat. Another tear spills from her eye, and more are coming, he can tell by the way her gaze shines.

“You’re going to swallow and come on your fingers like the needy little bitch you are,” Five gasps out, his own orgasm creeping up on him. He’s slipping off the chair with the force of his thrusts and the Handler seems content to take it. Her throat works around him as she swallows and gags, moans and chokes. Her clothes are rustling as she touches herself and Five almost wants to see if only to see proof of what he does to her.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” he pants. He’s not even thinking at this point, his brain one line of electric pleasure. He unsticks his hands from the arms of the chair and knocks the hat off the Handler’s head in his haste. He knots one hand in her immaculate hair and cups the other around the back of her head and yanks her forward, slamming his cock as deep as it can go into her mouth. He holds her there, relishes her moaning, the way she starts to squirm in his hold even as she never stops getting herself off.

She swallows again and one of her tears hits Five’s thigh, and that’s all it takes.

He humps against her face as he comes, pouring his release down her throat. He can’t stop thrusting with each wave of pleasure even as the Handler starts to fight against him, probably struggling to breathe. He’s still riding out his orgasm as the Handler’s body goes tense and the lax against him, her moans reaching a fever pitch and sending shocks straight to his core while she comes, too.

He stops first, although he briefly considers holding her down longer, seeing if her tight throat could get him off again so soon. He lets go of her head, untangles his hand from her hair, but she doesn’t move. She whimpers around his softening cock before she finally starts to pull back. Her lipstick is finally smeared across her cheek, and her eyes are rimmed in watery kohl from her eyeliner.

The Handler stares at him as she pulls off. She lets her mouth hang open for a few seconds after his cock slips from her lips, and she deliberately lets Five see the come pooling on her tongue before she swallows one last time.

He watches as she wrestles her hand from inside her panties, and she brings two slick fingers to his face. He doesn’t even think, just opens his mouth and lets her slide her fingers across his tongue. She presses in deep briefly, smirking when he gags slightly.

“Suck,” she says. “Clean me off.”

Five does, closing his lips over her dainty knuckles and swallowing the salty-sweet taste of her release. She takes her fingers back and wipes the excess spit off on his trousers. She stands abruptly and once again looms over him.

“Lunch break is over,” she tells him. Her voice is the furthest thing from stern, and Five is fairly certain he could convince her to go a second round if he really tried. His thoughts are at war—it felt good, particularly to own her, to force her to _take_ his cock. It also felt good, though, to let her command him. “Till next time, Five.”

Five stands, proud of himself when his legs don’t shake and he doesn’t stumble.

“Till next time, Handler,” he agrees.


End file.
